


Deliverance

by RogueLioness



Series: Thedosian Tales [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dealing With Trauma, F/M, Inner Demons, Other, Overcoming past beliefs, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 10:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11416281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueLioness/pseuds/RogueLioness
Summary: Before he was Commander, he was a Templar.





	Deliverance

He’s in the Circle Tower, held in place by a barrier as painful as it is impenetrable, and there’s blood,  _ Maker, so much blood _ , and he sees the faces of his comrades,  _ his friends _ , twisted in agony, their screams bouncing off the walls, distorted and desperate, and he’s  _ begging _ , he’s  _ pleading _ , for someone - anyone - to stop the madness, and then  _ she _ turns up, the woman he’s seen before, the woman who drew his eye with her lush auburn hair and gentle brown eyes, except this time her face is a mix of fury and fear, and he’s certain,  _ certain _ that it is another hallucination made to break him, and he screams to her,  _ at her _ , but she looks at him in pity…

_ Kill them all _ , he says, rage in his voice.  _ They are all blood mages, all of them _ .

Amell looks at him in horror and sorrow, and whatever he felt for her is twisted into something cold.

_ She is one of them _ . He is certain of it, when she convinces the Knight-Commander that the mages are innocent.

And then the scene shifts, and he’s in Kirkwall, and he looks upon the mages with constant suspicion;  _ they’re all dangerous _ , he knows, he’s  _ seen  _ it. He sees Hawke, raven-haired with fiery blue eyes, and there’s a pull, a  _ something _ when her eyes meet his… but she is a  _ mage _ , one of  _ them _ , and he’s  _ convinced _ she’s done something to him.

_ Mages cannot be our friends. They must always be watched. _ He doesn’t listen to her try and explain the plight of the mages to him -  _ they’re all dangerous, they must be locked away, they cannot hurt the people with their demons _ \- but he does not listen. Will not listen.  _ Cannot _ listen. He cannot doubt. Doubt is dangerous.  _ At any time, any mage could become a monster. From the lowest apprentice to the most seasoned enchanters. _

_ Mages cannot be treated like people. They are not like you and me. _

He has many confrontations with Hawke.

_ It will be up to the mages themselves whether they push us to more stringent measures. _

_ It sounds like you support this. _ Her face is disbelief and disgust in equal parts.

_ The Tranquil ritual was created as a mercy so that mages need not be killed out of hand for a threat they might pose. There is an argument to be made for applying it more widely. _

_ Do you think it is easy to contain a mage who truly wants to deal with demons? We’ve done our best. But many mages have made it clear that they view the ritual as no better than death. They want no controls on them at all. _

Is he trying to convince himself, or her? He doesn’t know. The accusations surrounding Ser Alrik… he cannot forget. Hawke is a mage, and she has helped his order numerous times. She has stood for the city, defended it, has been willing to give her life to protect it.

His doubts start to grow, no matter how hard he tries to contain them.

And then, it all comes to a terrible end. The Chantry, blown up by an apostate. The Right of Annulment invoked by his Knight-Commander. The First Enchanter, desperate to protect his charges, turning to blood magic.

Meredith going insane.

His Knight-Commander. The woman who had encouraged his suspicions, his distrust of mages. And yet, here she was, filled with hatred and loathing towards the one woman who had done more for the city than the city had done for her.

He stands with Hawke. And when it is all over, he lets her leave, unable to meet her eyes for the shame that he feels.

She is a mage, and she is a Champion. She is more than he is.

He wakes up, heart pounding, doubt and guilt and shame coiled and knotted and tangled together in his gut. He stares at the philter of blue liquid as it gently glows in the dark. It calls him, lures him, promises him dreamless sleep, of rest without nightmares.

He takes it.

The Circles hear of the events at Kirkwall, and rebel. He is unsure whether to blame them or not. For the first time, he understands why they felt the way they do, why they resent templar interference. And yet, he knows that something must be done to protect the people from the havoc that mages can cause.

This time, he has no answers. He does not know what to do. So he focuses his efforts on restoring order. He does the best he can, keeping Hawke in mind as a compass for his actions.

He still feels a great deal of guilt. Perhaps had he seen through Meredith earlier, the tragedy could have been avoided. Innocent lives could have been saved. Perhaps had he spoken up earlier -  _ had he listened to Hawke _ \- the Circles would not have rebelled, and the Templars with them.

And then, late one morning, Seeker Cassandra meets with him.

He has heard of her. Right Hand to the Divine, a woman fierce and righteous. He knows she is working under the Divine’s orders to bring an end to the war between the templars and mages that threatens all of Thedas.

She asks him to join the newborn Inquisition. He will be their Commander, she says, in charge of Inquisition forces.

It takes him less than five minutes to make his decision. He does not believe in his Order any more, and neither can he sit by and watch the world fall apart. Perhaps this is his chance to find something that he  _ can _ believe in.

He shakes off the lyrium chains along with his Templar life.

But the Conclave falls apart, the massive explosion taking away their last chance at peace. In the midst of all the chaos, a new threat arises; the massive Breach in the sky that spews out demons. He fights tirelessly with his men, trying to protect the villagers of Haven as best he can; yet with the sheer number of rifts in the area he knows it is but a matter of time before they are all doomed.

A miracle occurs. A woman,  _ a mage _ , with a glowing mark on her left hand. A woman who can seal the rifts. He cannot help but be impressed by her. She is dedicated, fierce, yet kind and caring. It is easy to talk to her; easier still, to forget that she is a mage. Trevelyan, her name is, Trevelyan with the strawberry blond hair and emerald green eyes; she is from the Circle of Ostwick, though she refuses to talk about her time there. He is afraid to ask; afraid to hear that there was someone like Ser Alrik there, preying on innocence and weakness.

She asks him about Kirkwall. There is a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a fear that she will not look at him the same once she hears about what he did. He tries to explain as best as he can, giving her as much of the truth he can bear to confess without hiding his culpability.  She listens patiently, her eyes calm and free from judgement.

It amazes him.

She reminds him of Hawke, and Amell, courageous, willing to fight for those weaker than her. Though they converse frequently, she seems aloof with him, and though he understands, it saddens him. For the first time in a long time - he does not know how long - he looks at her as a person first, a mage second. And he wonders if she will ever be able to look at him and not see the Templar.

She allies with the mages, against his suggestions, and for the first time since they met, he is genuinely angry at her, angry that she did not heed his advice, angry that she would put the villagers at risk. He carries on about abominations, and supervision, and it is only when he sees her blank, emotionless face does he understand how his words might seem to her. He attempts to explain, but his efforts are impeded by the Seeker putting an end to their argument.

She does not come to talk to him in the days after.

The Breach is sealed with the mages’ collective efforts, and he is ashamed that he doubted her, Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste. He wants to approach her, to apologize, when the alarm sounds.

Haven is under attack.

She takes charge, a determined, strong warrior, and she is everywhere on the battlefield, fighting the corrupted templars, protecting the villagers, attacking the incoming forces with the trebuchets he had the forethought of assembling. The dragon appears, and… he knows there is no hope.

Steely-eyed, she listens to the young lad. The Elder One wants her dead, he says, but will kill the others anyway.

_ To hit the enemy, we’d have to bury Haven _ . She doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say.

_ We’re dying _ , he is more blunt this time,  _ but we can decide how _ .

Another miracle. An escape route.

But they need a distraction.

_ What of your escape _ ?

She turns away, silent, eyes narrowed and resolute. He understands; he is filled with respect and horror and desperate hope.  _ Perhaps you will surprise it… find a way _ …

She nods grimly, and leaves with her companions. She turns around at the door, her gaze on him, and starts to say something. A loud crash from the outside catches her attention, and she’s out through the Chantry door, staff ready in hand.

He wonders what she had meant to say as he guides the villagers out of the burning village and towards safety.

Her companions return to join the last of the fleeing villagers.

She is not with them.

_ She is not with them. _

He does not know  _ what _ to feel. There’s too much to be done, too many people relying on him. Above the treeline, the signal is sent, and… a rock flies through the air, hitting the side of the mountain, and he realizes gratefully that  _ she is alive _ , only to have his joy dashed seconds later as the massive avalanche rumbles rapidly down the mountain.

She is extinguished, and it hurts him in a way he does not understand, for he had not thought it possible.

It pains him more to know that she would never know how he felt about her.

Miracle.

She turns up, having made her way through the blizzard with a broken body. She is more dead than alive, but she is  _ breathing _ , and that is more than enough for him.

She leads them to a new fortress, a new start.

She has just been appointed Inquisitor when she comes to see him. He tries to explain, to apologize for abandoning her; it weighs on him heavily, the guilt of sending her to her death mingled with the guilt of all he’s said to Amell and Hawke; it sits like lead in his stomach.

_ How many were lost _ ? She asks softly, and it is at that moment he knows he is gone, irreversibly changed by her. Despite all that she has been through, all that she has suffered, she is more concerned about those she had done her best to protect.

How was he to resist a woman so caring, so compassionate?

_ I’m relieved that you _ \- she stammers then, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink -  _ that so many made it out _ .

He hopes she means what he thinks she means.

He makes a decision.

_ You stayed behind _ . He gently grabs hold of her arm as she turns to leave.  _ You could’ve _ \- and he remembers that she very nearly did.  _ I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again _ . His voice holds the weight of the promise he makes.  _ You have my word. _

She smiles, placing her hand on top of his.  _ I know _ , she says, and all is right in his world again.

He will do  _ everything _ he can to make sure she will  _ never _ again have to be in a position where she is forced to sacrifice herself.

There is much work to be done; she is constantly out on the field, while he remains in Skyhold, coordinating and training their forces. Yet as busy as his days are, he never stops thinking - or worrying - about her, and to his delight, it appears as though she feels the same. She writes to him as frequently as she can, talking about what she’s seen and done, inserting an amusing anecdote or two now and then.

She in in Skyhold, a rare occasion, when she comes to see him. She is uncharacteristically jittery, and cannot meet his eyes, and he fears the worst. Did he say something in the war room meeting to offend her? Or perhaps something in one of his letters?

_ It’s a- a nice day _ , he stammers out as they walk outside on the battlements, then berates himself when she looks amused.  _ There was something you wished to discuss _ ? Her face turns serious, and she looks away; he prepares for the worst, even though he has no idea what it is.

_ Cullen… I… I care for you, and _ she breaks off, looking miserable.

He cannot bear to see her like this.  _ What’s wrong _ ?

She looks at him, nervous, apprehensive.  _ You… you left the templars, but… do you trust mages? _ She adds shyly,  _ Could you think of me as anything more? _

His heart soars with hope. He did not think this was possible.   How does she not see what she means to him? How can she not understand how much he cares about her? He did not think she would ever come to care for him, a templar...

_ And yet…  I’m still here _ , she points out, a dazzling smile on her lips.

He gives in.

Her lips are better than anything he - or any demon in the Fade - could ever have dreamed up, soft, pliant, comforting…  _ home _ . He forgets, completely, that she is a mage.

Now, she is the woman he wants. The woman he never expected to find. And yet, she is here, in his arms, and though they are at war… he is blissful.

But the lyrium haunts him still. The nightmares are worse, the demons darker. He cannot sleep, and when he does, he awakens with a mind so clouded he cannot focus.

It is when Ser Belinda points out that he is about to send a contingent into hostile territory does he begin to fear that he will fail. That he may not be able to keep his promise to her.

So he asks Cassandra to replace him. But she does not.

Instead, Trevelyan comes to check up on him. She is kind, compassionate, everything he  _ does not _ deserve, and something in him snaps. He lays bare all that has happened to him, all that he has done, his eyes pleading with hers to make the decision  _ for _ him - the decision his heart does not want to make, but his mind says he should.

She hears him out patiently, letting him vent. And then says something he does not expect.

_ This doesn’t have to be about the Inquisition. Is this what  _ **_you_ ** _ want _ ?

His mind calms, and he can think clearly again.  _ If I cannot endure this… _

Her eyes are filled with so much love.  _ You can _ , she says, her voice filled with faith and belief, and in that moment… he  _ knows _ he can.

Because she believes in him.

She sends him to bed, then joins his side with a tray of food, coaxing him to eat even though it is the last thing he wants to do. Her fingers move to his forehead, and she hesitates, looking at him for permission. He wonders  _ why _ , then realizes.

She is a mage.

And he has just told her his experiences with them.

She is afraid he will think she is going to hurt him.

He thinks of Amell, who saved him from Uldred.

He thinks of Hawke, who saved him from Meredith.

He looks at Trevelyan.

Another mage, in a long line of mages he has encountered who have been good, and kind, and gentle…

He knows the power she wields, has seen it in action. And yet…

It does not frighten him.

He does not fear she will succumb to demons.

He is  _ absolutely certain _ she will  _ never _ hurt him.

He takes her hands, and kisses the center of her palm before placing her fingers on his forehead with a smile.

She is his salvation.

His redemption.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea one night as I was falling asleep [yes I'm weird that way lol]. People seem to either demonize Cullen or hate him, and while I don't want to gloss over his reactions towards mages before he was Commander, I feel like he is someone who realizes that he is in the wrong, and actively works to change himself for the better.
> 
> Thoughts and comments always welcome! :)


End file.
